


All Clear

by Trifoliate_undergrowth



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arguing, Banter, M/M, Trapped, gets unexpectedly a bit softer, sleep deprived & unhinged scientists, the smut is mild but present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26766442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trifoliate_undergrowth/pseuds/Trifoliate_undergrowth
Summary: “—Have no idea what’s going on out there,” Newton muttered.“Oh don’t worry, it can’t possibly be worse than being stuck in here with—”“And,” Newton fumed, “I’m stuck in here with YOU!”Something snapped. Hermann surprised even himself by how fast he moved. Newton’s next banging-on-the-wall episode was cut blessedly short.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	All Clear

The fact that he was awake at after three in the morning was woefully low on Hermann’s list of reasons why today sucked. Some of the higher ones would be, say, the rampaging kaiju right outside the building, which had broken away from the Jaegers and taken a bite out of one of the observation towers, or the fact that Newton had seemed more concerned with losing a chance for good visuals on his precious monster than aware of the life-threatening scale of the damage. Number one item on the list at the moment, though, was that when Marshall Pentecost had decided the kaiju was too close to base and ordered all non-essential personnel to shelter in the safe rooms until further notice, Newton had thrown a genuine temper tantrum, right in the middle of LOCCENT, in front of everyone, about how he was definitely essential and important and he had to see the goddamn kaiju up close and Hermann, who had _not_ slept well and was in _pain_ and _very tired_ and did we mention _in pain_ , had to _physically drag him out of the goddamn room_ or he would still be in there. Well no he wouldn’t, because Marshall Pentecost would have killed him. But was he thanking Hermann? No he was not. Alright, so that was several things, but they all tied as equal amounts of infuriating. And the night was far from over because getting Newton into the safe room did not equal making Newton resign himself to the situation and shut up like a decent adult human being.

“If he doesn’t cancel it as soon as Ridgebone backs off a little I swear to God,” Newton was pacing at a speed that made it more like jogging (and of course he was referring to that thing outside by name already). Hermann could swear he heard his heart beating from here, and his hair was even more disheveled than usual. He hadn’t bothered tucking his shirt in. Hermann supposed they were lucky he was wearing a shirt and hadn’t just sprinted into LOCCENT in whatever he’d slept in to see the big monster. Hermann sat on one of the bunks and tried to keep his feet out of the way of Newton’s pacing. Surely he’d tire out soon. Surely.

“I doubt he will. Sit down.”

They had the place to themselves—just about anyone who’d be on this level during an attack to begin with was automatically considered essential. He supposed he could understand Newton’s fury about being banished from LOCCENT while everyone else got to stay; he hadn’t been particularly happy about it, either, as a matter of fact, though that faint disappointment had been fully eclipsed by the intensely unpleasant experience of dealing with Newton.

“Non-essential? Who the fuck stays in LOCCENT for every single attack up until now and isn’t considered essential?”

“Yes I know, but that’s his call, and he _specifically_ said us.” (Said, made direct eye contact, pointed, said both our names, then had to watch you have a meltdown and go into full denial and me slowly drag you away while awkwardly apologizing). “Being allowed in LOCCENT is a privilege, not a right, and if he decides to ban both of us based on your behavior tonight—”

“Oh he won’t ban _you_ , you were the perfect sheep.”

Hermann gritted his teeth. “—If he _does_ , I _will_ kill you. Sit down.”

“Well he’s wrong!”

“What are you going to do, fistfight Marshall Pentecost in LOCCENT?”

Newton banged his fist against the wall as he passed. God he really was losing it.

“Maybe.”

Hermann laughed bitterly. “No you wouldn’t. Sit down.”

Newton made another circle of the room and another pass at the wall. _BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG_. Oh that was going to get really old really fast.

“I am _stuck_ in here,”

_BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG_

“Unfortunately so am I,” grumbled Hermann, viciously gripping the side of the bunk.

“They couldn’t even let me sleep through it they had to wake me up and then SEND ME AWAY?? Who in the Shatterdome even IS non-essential!?”

“You know I hope you get your ‘up close and alive’ wish one of these days,” said Hermann, feeling dangerously close to violence, trying to convince himself he could just lie down and put a pillow over his head and forget Newton was there.

_BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG_

No he could not, a pillow would do nothing against that noise.

“—I hope it eats you, and would you _stop that_?!”

_BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG_

“—Have no idea what’s going on out there,” Newton muttered.

“Oh don’t worry, it can’t possibly be worse than being stuck in here with—”

“And,” Newton fumed, “I’m stuck in here with _you_!”

Something snapped. Hermann surprised even himself by how fast he moved. Newton’s next banging-on-the-wall episode was cut blessedly short. Hermann grabbed him by the shoulder (he heard the sound of threads snapping in his shirt) and spun him against the wall, pinning him in place with his body and grabbing him by the jaw hard enough to bruise, forcing his head back so he could look him right in the eye.

“ _Shut_ ,” he snarled right in his face, voice shaking and almost incoherent in fury, “ _up_.”

Newton had gone still, which was kind of a surprise. There was a moment of near-silence in which the only sound was the two of them panting, and he started to process details he hadn’t picked up before, like how deer-in-the-headlights Newton suddenly looked and. And. _Okay then_.

He’d always assumed Newton wouldn’t be into him. Why would he be. He was always complaining about him—then again, that’s how he was with Newton, and. Well. But the point was, that was apparently not quite true, and he was just too tired to think about how that information might have affected him under normal circumstances because it was an ungodly hour of the morning and he’d stopped thinking sane thoughts half an hour ago and Newton ‘apparently not tragically 100% straight as assumed’ Giezsler’s very, unavoidably erect dick was digging into him and he was very much okay with that actually. Not that he’d gotten over the part where he wanted to kill Newton, who at least was finally looking guilty. Maybe not for any of the reasons he _should_ be. But still.

What he expressed out loud was a disbelieving “Oh for God’s sake, Newton!”

Newton’s expression shifted to plain embarrassment as he tried to wriggle out from under Hermann’s body, which. _Really_ wasn’t helping his case any.

“Look,” panted Newton, “Just—uhh—look. Sorry? Just, just get off me and—”

“I don’t think I will.”

It took Newton a couple moments to process that he’d said anything. “What?”

Hermann let his whole body’s weight fall against him, pressing him flat against the wall. He was much closer to him now. He dropped his hand to Newton’s throat, still keeping him firmly against the wall, now leaving only a short gap of air between their faces. “Said I don’t think I will.”

He watched Newton staring back at him—in shock, alarm, confusion, finally landing on something less refined, eyes roaming down to his mouth in what was, for that moment, close enough to a silent plea. Herman kissed him—more of a bite because he was still pissed and had never been good at kissing to begin with, but from Newton’s reaction it was good enough. His hands were already gripping handfuls of Hermann’s sweater, now they twisted in desperately, keeping him close and Hermann’s hand moved to grip a handful of his hair, the other fumbling the front of his shirt open. Why the hell didn’t he wear an undershirt it was unprofessional. And more truthfully it was distracting, for him, personally. Because it meant he could just. Pull open the one layer and immediately have his hands on Newton’s skin. Which was maybe something he’d thought about more than he really should; maybe every time he saw a flash of tattooed color peeking from under Newton’s collar, for example, which happened daily. Another question he’d thought about more than he should, just how much of his body was covered in ink? He was going to figure it out.

Some disembodied part of him was watching in disbelief—first of all that this was actually happening, second that it was happening like _this_ , because for how many times he’d fantasized about snogging Newton he’d never imagined it like this—but he didn’t have time for that much consideration because Newton was gasping against his neck and he was still trying to find the end of the tattoos, which definitely dipped under the waist of his pants, and Newton started to whimper something and Hermann put a hand over his mouth, pressing the back of his head into the wall, “Shut up or I won’t.” He shut up. God, when was the last time Newton had actually listened to him? He was drunk on power. Or something. He was definitely drunk. The tattoos continued in unbroken pattern across Newton’s hips, and Hermann was almost surprised his dick _wasn’t_ tattooed (was that even possible?), but it wasn’t, and the bare skin stood out clearly against the rolling background of immortalized monsters that covered every other inch of his hips and thighs. Which he apparently shaved, like he shaved his arms, to show off his tattoos, which was an _interesting_ detail. But the details were hardly his focus at the moment, registering only peripherally.

Newton came in a series of half-stifled shuddering gasps, body arching into his touch, face pressed into Hermann’s neck, the stubbly-rough touch of it contrasting with the smooth skin under Hermann’s hands.

Then, while Newton was remembering how to breathe, Hermann remembered how unbelievably tired he was, and braced his arms against the wall, reality slowly settling back over him.

He was… almost painfully aroused, and he was still in the normal kind of pain and exhausted and holy shit he just had sex with Newton Gieszler. Well he. Sort of. He. Was going to literally die and he wasn’t sure how he felt about this.

“Hermann?” said Newt, probably a bit concerned at how he was slowly collapsing.

“I need to sit down,” said Hermann, trying to move away from Newt, but he looped an arm around his waist and kept him close.

“Right, let me help you, just—”

Hermann helped him shuffle more or less back into his clothes, then Newton hovered over him to the bed, where he collapsed onto his back. “Just remembered what time it is,” he said by way of explanation. 

“Okay,” said Newton, shirt still completely off one shoulder, “Do you want to sleep?”

“Absolutely not,” he said.

Newton hopped up to join him, straddling him in an awkward kneel-crouch to keep under the base of the bunk above them. “Good, because I’m _very_ awake right now.”

“I’m only about half awake and a quarter alive,” grumbled Hermann, though honestly this was more awake than he’d been in a long time. Newton was trying to pull his sweater off. He made no attempt to help.

“How many sweaters are you wearing? Like I know it’s at least two—”

“Newton, don’t bother with the sweaters.”

“You’re dodging the question,” said Newton, but he stopped bothering with the sweaters.

He’d honestly kind of thought Newton would be better at this. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe he just assumed someone so magnetic would’ve had a lot of experience, but maybe not. He seemed awkward. Not that it mattered, because it was Newton and there was no way he could have messed this up. He came almost immediately. Then Newton was stroking the side of his face saying “hey, hey, hey” as he caught his breath and that was for some reason not annoying. He dragged Newton down next to him and their breathing evened out together.

“So, um,” Newton said, and Hermann groaned. “Am I allowed to talk now?”

“If you say anything about that goddamn kaiju I’m throwing you out.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me.”

“Right. Into the trash bin.” He gave Newton a teasing shove towards the edge of the bunk, not expecting him to actually move, but Newton slid off and stood with a laugh, then walked easily across the room, stretching.

“Right where I belong, huh?” Newton joked without even looking over his shoulder.

It was cold in here, Hermann realized very suddenly. Newton’s warmth evaporated almost instantly from the covers. Across the room Newton was sleepily struggling the rest of the way out of his shirt, tossing it over one of the upper bunks, then getting comfortable on the one beneath it.

Great, of course, this was actually the worst possible scenario. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill Newton or himself. Probably the latter. He straightened his clothes and wormed his way under the covers, hugging his sweater around him. Of all the insane, irresponsible, ill-advised things to do—

“What?” said Newton, looking at him curiously.

“Nothing.” Oh, great. Just how pitiful did he look? (Just what did he expect, really, from something like this?) “Cold,” he half-lied, thinking that might be more believable.

“Did you want me to stay with you?” said Newton and _obviously_ yes but he wasn’t going to say that _now_.

“I didn’t want to make it weird,” said Newton, when he didn’t reply.

“You didn’t what?” Hermann might have shouted if he was less tired and confused, but he was just about done with shouting. He was about done with everything in general. So his voice was just an exasperated rasp. “I’m sorry, you didn’t want to _make it weird?_ ”

“Weirder.”

“I think we’re far past that.”

“So, do you w—”

“Get over here,” said Hermann, too tired for subtlety.

“Sure,” Newton smiled, and came and flopped right down right on top of him like a cat finding a sunbeam. It was adorable. It was incredibly painful.

“ _Ow_.”

“Oh, sorry.”

There were a few moments of confused shuffling, as he tried to roll Newt more to his good side and Newt made unhelpful attempts at helping, and fine Hermann wasn’t helping himself much either because the easy solution was to just push Newton away but he wasn’t going to do that. They finally settled into a comfortable-enough position which allowed him to keep one arm around Newton and he let himself relax.

Which. Uh. Allowed him time to think about where he was and that he was resting his hand on Newton’s bare skin, feeling the slow rise and fall of his ribs. Which was definitely what he wanted but was also slightly terrifying because dear God was this actually better? (Yes. He was just panicking.) He wasn’t sure he wanted to look Newton in the face so he looked at the patterns his tattoos made on the arm crossing his chest, rising and falling slightly with his breaths.

“So, hey,” mumbled Newt into his sweater, “If we ever do this again, Idunnoarewedoingthisagain?, if you could just like, not draw blood, that’d be cool.”

“What.”

“What? You heard me.”

“I heard a lot of mumbling.” He shifted towards Newton. “Did I?”

“What? I think yeah, a little?”

He gently pulled Newt’s lip down. There was a scrape on the inside edge, maybe where he’d caught it between their teeth. He wasn’t sure anymore, but yeah, that was probably on him.

“Hm,” he said, pulling his hand back.

“Not going to apologize?”

He bent forward and kissed above the cut, barely touching him, watching his reaction. Newton seemed amused.

“You’re almost as bad at apologies as I am.”

“I am _not_.”

Newton got up on his elbow to kiss him, leaning into it, then settled back into his place.

“Are too. Seeya in the morning?”

“It is already morning and I hate it.”

“See you whenever the all-clear sounds, then.”

“Right. Don’t trample me on your way to collect the leftover kaiju shreds.”

“Oh I’m going to run right over you,” said Newt calmly, nuzzling into his shoulder and going still.

Hermann still had. A lot of questions. And he was pretty sure he was still kind of in shock? About this whole? Situation?? But he could feel the warm weight of Newt’s body next to him and he’d been on the verge of passing out for a while now so he decided to think through this later.

He didn’t think he’d ever slept this well in a safe room before.


End file.
